


Five dollars well spent

by MoonTearChild



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Casual Sex, M/M, Pining, Sniper has a secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonTearChild/pseuds/MoonTearChild
Summary: A five dollar minimum spend limit leads to an interesting turn of events.





	Five dollars well spent

It had all started in Teufort. It was Sunday, and just like usual, the heat was unbearable. Scout had slipped into a small convenience store to escape the sun, sweating and cursing. He had come to the little town with Engie, and yet he had somehow managed to lose him. Shoving his fist into his pocket, he counted the crumpled loose notes, stalking over to the refrigerator to grab a drink. He opened the door and sighed contently, simply basking in the cool breeze from the machine.  
“Buy somethin’ or get out, kid, I don’t got all day.” The harsh voice from the counter snapped, making the Merc scowl in response. He grabbed whatever drink his hand came into contact with first, much more concerned with cooling down than whatever the taste was. He sets the can down onto the counter and is about to fork over the cash when the man behind the register glares. “Five dollar minimum spend.”  
Scout’s expression drops to one of disbelief.  
“What? Freakin’ unbelievable!”   
The man folds his arms.  
“Don’t like it? Get out.” The man’s tone suggested he wasn’t joking. Scout sighed heavily and turns away from the register, eyes scanning the shop for whatever he could buy which would tip his total over into the clear. He walks to the back of the small store, huffing all the while. It’s there when his eyes fall on the magazine rack. It seemed like a good enough idea, the ride back to the base was long and boring, so something to keep him occupied at least for a bit would be great. He reaches for the first one he sees and walks back to where the drink was calling his name, hand reaching out to pocket a pack of bubblegum or two from the shelf as he went and sneaking them into his slacks. Throwing the magazine down onto the counter, he begrudgingly paid the five bucks. “And the extra dollar?”  
Scouts brow furrowed.  
“Are you kiddin’ me? What for?”  
“The gum.” The man bit back.  
Scout chucks the extra cash at him with a glare and grabs the stuff. “Now get out of here, and I don’t ever want to see you back.”  
“Right back at ya, pally.” He scoffed sarcastically, slamming the door behind him. 

Cracking the can open, Scout takes a big gulp of the carbonated liquid inside, savoring the way it cooled his insides.   
“Jesus, boy, there ya are!” The southern tones of the Engineer’s voice declared, making the Boston man spin to the direction of the noise. The other Merc was loading bags into the bed of the truck, goggles around his neck and helmet discarded, he wipes at his forehead. “Was wonderin’ where you’d gone off to. Ready to head back?” Scout nods in agreement, opening the door and hopping in, kicking his feet up onto the dashboard as he swigs the drink. Engie joins him in the cab of the car, using his gloved hand to swat at the younger Merc’s legs as he turns the key in the ignition. Scout, now sufficiently cooled, opens to the first page and hums. He didn’t bother to check what the thing was about, and in retrospect that was a rather dumb move. From what he could read, it seemed to be about hunting. As the car heads off onto the road, Scout takes his time with the magazine, reading segments where he felt like it and looking at the pictures. It mostly comprised of guns, game animals and other ultimately boring things. He sighs, grabbing the can for another drink and turning the page again with disinterested abandon.   
He had the drink up to his lips, a small amount of liquid sitting in his mouth when he sees the contents of the page, and all of a sudden, he tries to gasp in surprise, only succeeding in inhaling the sickly sweet liquid. He lurches forward as he coughs, effectively blocking the magazine in between his chest and thighs as he struggles for breath. The Engineer slams on the breaks, patting Scout on the back firmly. When he feels like he can breathe again, Scout chokes out a ‘thanks’.  
“By God, son! What was that all about? You damn near scared me to death.” His tone is sympathetic and concerned, and Scout panics.  
“Nothing! I think you just hit a pot hole.” He scrambles for an excuse, and cringes at the words that tumbled out of his mouth. Engie is unconvinced, but hums. “Well, as long as you’re okay. Let’s get back to base.”  
Scout couldn’t have agreed more.

And that’s where it had started, and the reason he was currently sitting on his bunk, staring at the pages of the now slightly spit-slash-soda covered pages in disbelief. His mouth was agape, eyes were wide at what they were looking at. He had to be seeing things. There was no way this was real, that drink must have had some crazy drugs in it, because this was unbelievable. There, set out in a double page spread, was two pictures of who could be considered the most reclusive member of their team. Scout rubbed his eyes in shock, as if confirming what it was he saw on the pages. Perhaps it was a guy who looked and awful lot like him? It had to be.  
But something in him didn’t agree. That was Sniper - and he was shirtless, posing with his leg bent out to the front, hat tilted half over his face and jeans low on his hips, hugging his frame. And boy were they tight. It left very little to the imagination. His large, veiny hands gripped at his belt, and Scout couldn’t help but swallow thickly, eyes following the trail of hair from his chest down in a path to below those snugly fitted jeans which perfectly highlighted his-   
Scout was sure his face was redder than his uniform and he knew that if anyone were to walk in, he’d have a hard time explaining this. He has a white-knuckle grip on the paper, but can’t bring himself to set it down, and instead, he looks over to the image on the other side of the page. This, of course, does nothing to ease his violent blush. The second picture was still of the marksman, this time posed at a side angle, holding one of the many guns that were displayed in the earlier pages up at his shoulder. His sun kissed skin stands out against the lighting as he stares down the scope, once again shirtless and in those same tight jeans. The muscles in his arms were very clearly on display, as well as the rather fantastically crafted curve of where the trousers clung to his ass and Scout found himself unable to pull his eyes away. He licks at his lips nervously, unsure of what to think about the images in front of him. This was most definitely Sniper. However, he looked younger, less stressed and more carefree, the lines on his face were practically nonexistent. Clearly this was taken a long time ago, and Scout wondered exactly what had happened to make him look so much more weathered, and just why he had signed on for this in the first place. But more importantly, he had other matters to concern himself with; namely the tightening in his gut as he continued to analyze the images feverishly. He drops the magazine and rubs a hand over his face.  
“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, eyes flicking over to the images on the page again. He feels his stomach flutter as he does so, cursing. Of all things that could happen in this world, this had to have been pretty unlikely. He was looking at a picture of his friend as a pin up model - not only that but the man was his colleague. He shouldn’t be looking at this. Scout bites his lip, skin buzzing with an all too familiar sensation. Jesus fuck he was aroused. He did have to admit, Sniper looked good. He traces the slope of the man’s ass with the tip of his finger, unable to stop himself from imagining what it would be like to have that in his hands. He stifles a groan as he brushes his free hand over the tent in his uniform trousers, painfully aware of how wrong this was. 

He would be quick, it wouldn’t mean anything and then he’d throw the damn thing away. Easy. His hands fumble for the button and zipper, undoing them shakily as he props the magazine up on his pillow to support it, tugging the material down his thighs to his shins where it wouldn’t get in his way. Pushing his shirt up his stomach slightly, he runs a hand over his throbbing dick, letting out a keening whine he didn’t know he was holding in. God, he had never been this aroused before. He takes a hold of himself in his shaking hand and begins to run it down the length of his member, biting hard at his lip to keep quiet. Soon enough, his back was arching, thighs trembling as he spills all over his hand, evidently so aroused he couldn’t manage to last his usual amount of time. Staring down at the mess he had made, he didn’t think he’d ever came as hard in his life. Scout wipes his hand in his sheets, making himself presentable before throwing the offending material under his pillow. It was time for dinner and he knew he had to avoid Sniper at all costs if he wanted to keep his dignity.

The night had passed without a hitch, and now it was his favorite part of the day. The skull of an enemy Spy cracked under the weight of his bat and he quickly sidesteps to avoid the spray of bullets from their rather unimpressed Heavy as he closes in. Scouts back brushes the wall and he curses, looking back to see he had backed himself into an alcove before turning to face the enemy.   
“Come at me chucklenuts, I’ll kick your ass!”   
Before he could even pull out his shotgun, the enemy’s Heavy fell with a thud, a single clean shot to the back of his neck. Scout looks up to where the laser originated from, seeing Sniper stood in the rigid shooting position he usually assumed, and the bat wielding Merc ducks behind a stack of boxes. He quickly tried to calm his racing heart and swore, swiping the back of his hand across his nose. Great, now he couldn’t even look at the guy without thinking of the pictures he had back in his room. He shook himself from his thoughts and slipped back around from his cover, resolving himself to get over the thing and go back to how things were, or at least forget it had happened in the first place.

It was a few hours later, the sun settling deep into the horizon when the battle was finally won. Cheers from his team echoed throughout the base, reverberating off walls as they celebrated.   
“Hey, Scout!” Engie clapped the younger Merc on the back, grinning from ear to ear. “Me ‘n the boys were thinkin’ of playin’ a game of pool, fancy joinin’ us?”   
Scout nods enthusiastically, smile matching that of the Southerner.  
"Sure, why not? I mean, I could probably take you all on." He laughs, lifting his cap to clean his brow from the sweat that had gathered there. They walk into the rec room, silently praising the dodgy aircon for even the little bit of cool air it provided. Scout heads to the wall to pick up a cue, humming as he prepared the end with chalk. He hears Demo cheer behind him and turns, the grin dropping from his face as he does, the aircon no longer mattering for the heat that covered his face. It was Sniper, and he was playing too. Not only that, but he was leant over the pool table in order to get his shot. Remembering the pictures, Scout's eyes instinctually fall to the taller man's ass, which, despite the jeans not being as tight as they were during the shoot, still clung rather well to his form. Without meaning to, he drops the cue and takes a step towards the door. "Uh, never mind, actually. I don't feel too good, I think I'm just gonna go back to my room!" He barely manages to splutter the excuse out and back up out the door, turning to jog back to his room before anyone could question it. Slamming the door, he sits down heavily on his bed, breathing hard. Reluctantly, his hand reaches under his pillow for the magazine, pulling it out to stare once again at the man on the page. There was no denying that was Sniper, the likeness was too uncanny. The bulge in the front of his slacks was incredibly noticeable at this point, and he thanked God that he'd left the room before any of the guys had noticed. That would have been impossible to explain. He had just began to slide a hand down his trousers when there was a knock at the door. Scout swears, throwing the magazine to the side and dropping his pillow down over it to conceal it, he tries to tug his shirt over his crotch a little more but gives up when it does nothing but make it more noticable. He rubs the back of his neck nervously. "Ah, yeah. Come in."

Sniper sticks his head around the door, and Scout almost sighs. Great. Fantastic. He clenched his thighs together in an attempt to cover his shame but nearly jumps when it gives him the right type of friction.   
"Just wanted to pop in t' see if yer alright, mate."   
"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be alright?" He chokes out, wincing. Real smooth. Sniper's brow furrows and he steps fully into the room, leaning up against the wall with his arms folded.   
"Y' left the room pretty quick, is all. Just makin' sure." His tone is surprisingly concerned, and Scout nods.  
"Oh, yeah, well. I'm fine. If you could just leave now, I've got to-" his explanation is cut short when Sniper's eye catches something to his left and Scout turns to follow it. Oh crap.   
The pillow had fallen off the bed in his haste to hide his hard on, his jumpy behaviour doing nothing but cause his own demise. Sniper smirks, a laugh, deep and throaty which makes Scout's insides flutter, worms it's way from his mouth.   
"Ah, I get it. Never mind then, mate. I'm sure you're alright, then."   
Scout is confused until it occurs to him. Sniper can't see what is on the page from where he was perched. The other Merc takes a step forward and Scout grabs at the offending material, face scarlet with embarrassment and anxiety. "Aw, c'mon mate. Not gonna let me see what's got you all hot 'n bothered? What's a secret between friends, eh?" Sniper jokes, making a grab at the magazine. However, in his panicked state, Scout's attempts at moving it away were futile, and the marksman grabs the magazine with ease, turning it towards himself to take a look. Scout braces for the impact of the hit that was certain to come. When he opens his eyes, Sniper's face is one of disbelief which rivaled that of his own when he had first seen the images.   
His voice comes out hoarse and angry. "Where did you get this?"  
“Teufort.” Scout chokes out, averting his eyes.  
“What? And you thought you’d just keep it? What do you want with it? I don’t take to kindly to blackmail, mate.” His tone was quickly verging on threatening, fists flexing into a tight ball which suggested he had pushed his luck way out of proportion.   
“Blackmail? Wha- No, I-” Scout stops himself before he finishes his sentence. He could hardly tell the man he’d been getting off to the pictures, could he? He swallows thickly. "I'm not that kinda guy! But I mean… Can we talk about this? Like, why?"   
Sniper's posture was rigid, his jaw set hard.   
"Needed a bit of money back when I was a young lad. They liked me and it paid well, it was a quick buck. That's it."   
Scout did what he did best, and spoke without thinking.  
"If I tell you the truth, can you, like, promise not to kill me? Or if ya do kill me, can we still be friends when I get outta Respawn?" He begins to fidget, half from the discomfort of the situation and the other half from the fact his trousers were still uncomfortably tight. Sniper nods.   
Scout opens his mouth as if to speak but no words come out. He licks his lips and tries again. 

"You're like, crazy hot dude, and I've been struggling to think of anythin' else for two days now and it's killing me here, so I'm gonna ask - and feel free to punch me for this but - can I see you?" The words tumble out of his mouth at an alarming speed, and by the time he had finished speaking, it took Sniper a solid few seconds to even comprehend what the younger Merc had said. The marksman furrowed his brow. And then he smirks.  
"Bloody hell mate. You're really a mess over this huh? Been wankin' to pictures of me? I should be honoured." Scout chokes.  
"Honoured? So, you'll do it?" At this, Sniper shrugs,   
"Why not. After all, what's a secret between friends?" He grins wolfishly, already reaching to take off his hat and glasses in order to pull his work shirt and under shirt off. Once he was naked from the waist up, he returns his hat to his head, smoothing a hand down his stomach to push his jeans so they sat low on his hips. Scout whimpers.   
"Holy shit." His voice is quiet as he stands from his place on the bed, eyes fixed on the expanse of skin which was the Bushman's torso. His skin was scattered with various scars, and he couldn't help but reach out to touch, sliding his hand along Sniper's chest and squeezing appreciatively at his pec.   
"Not as toned as I used to be." The marksman hums, at this Scout shakes his head.   
"You look so freakin' good." He begins to walk around the man, observing every inch until he comes to stand behind him. It's then that he drops to his knees, and Sniper is about to ask him what he's doing until Scout grabs at the man's arse with his hands, groaning. "Holy shit." He kneads at the flesh there, watching as it filled his palms and his hot breath tickled the bushman's lower back, making him shiver. "I wanna see more. Can I?" He asks breathily and Sniper nods, hands quickly finding his belt buckle and undoing it. His jeans are down just as quick and he kicks them off to the side, the second he is able, his hands go back to the expanse of muscle, gripping it firmly as his mouth trails across the marksman's back and hips, licking and nipping hotly as his hands worked at his ass, moaning appreciatively. Sniper's breath catches in his throat as Scout begins to work a hickey into his hip, groaning.   
"You're a horny little bugger aren't'cha?"   
Scout nods enthusiastically in response, turning Sniper so they were facing.   
"I wanna suck your dick." He states, hoarsely, and Sniper swears under his breath.   
"Go on then."   
Scout grins, wasting no time in nuzzling his face into the crook of where the man's thigh met his hip, mouthing at the clothed bulge in front of his face. He pulls down the boxers and Sniper barely has time to kick them off before Scout's hot tongue is on him, lapping at the head and taking it into his mouth. A choked groan escapes the Bushman's lips.  
"That's right, suck my cock." He grunts, grabbing a rough handful of the Boston man's cropped hair and tugging, urging him to take more. Scout moans at the man's words, relaxing his throat as he begins to bob his head. "Dirty, you are, wankin' to those pictures of me. I wonder what was running through that pretty head of yours when you were gettin' off, hmm? Thinkin' of getting fucked? Eh?" Sniper chuckles, letting go of the man's hair and sliding his dick free to push two fingers into Scout's mouth. He watched those plush lips close around his long fingers, tongue working eagerly over them to coat them with saliva. The Boston man's blue eyes stared up into the other man's brown ones, pleading. He removes his hand and grabs at Scout's jaw, "How would you like to get fucked?" He speaks slowly, smirking when the man nods.  
"Please."   
"Cute. But first I wanna see somethin'" Scout pouts for a moment before agreeing. "I wanna see how you touched yourself thinking of me." The Boston man's expression is shocked, just for a second, but then he bites his lip, blush darkening. "Get on the bed."   
He does so, nearly toppling over at this enthusiasm for the command, sitting down with his legs over the side, he hitches them up so his ankles rest on the edge of the bed frame and spreads his thighs wide. At this, Sniper groans appreciatively. "Go on then." He purrs, eyes ravenously carving over every inch of exposed flesh as it's revealed to him, quite enjoying the unintentional strip tease he was receiving. Once Scout frees himself from his boxers, he lets a heavy sigh of relief escape his lips, making quick work of spitting into his hand to run it down his dick and relieve some of the pressure building there. His voice cracks as he moans, looking up through his lashes at the very attractive, very real man in front of him, so much better than any picture. Biting his lip, Scout watches as Sniper begins to run his hands across his body; they were teasing each other in every way possible, and it was quickly becoming too much to handle. "Such a pretty boy. Look at those legs. Bet they'd feel good wrapped around me, what do you think?" Sniper's tone is teasing, but Scout can tell he's also starting to feel the heat.  
"Yeah, come over here and fuck me, then."   
Sniper grins.  
"Now that's what I like to hear. You got anythin' to prep with?" He looks around the sparse room thoughtfully, and back to Scout just in time to see the man shake his head.  
"What does it matter? C'mon I'm gettin' impatient here!" 

Sniper tuts.  
"It matters. What are you nuts? You'll ruin yourself, and not in a good way. 'old on, think I've got somethin' in 'ere." He rummages around in the pocket of his vest, pulling out a small tub of vaseline with a hum. "Not the best, but it'll do. Don't feel like goin' back to my van to fetch anything else right now." He advances towards the younger man and pushes him back slightly on the bed, settling a knee between his legs, leaning down into him comfortably enough to be able to manoeuvre. Sniper pauses, looking down at the man underneath him, captivated for a moment, then grins. Scout's face darkens.  
"Just get on with it okay?" He whines, throwing an arm over his eyes in embarrassment which made the marksman laugh. His first touch is a gentle one across the slope of the Boston man's shoulder, running his fingers in light strokes down his chest and stomach, watching the muscles twitch in his abdomen the lower he got until he took the cock in his hand, giving it a few strokes for good measure. Scout gasps loudly, a sharp moan escaping his lips as his hips buck up into the touch. However, the fist around him is gone as soon as it started and he can't help but whine, the hands moving down along to his thighs and feeling them up with the same vigor as Scout held for the Bushman's arse. And then the hands are gone all together and his skin yearns for the next touch, watching with pupils blown wide as Sniper uncaps the tub and scoops up a generous dollop of the gel onto his fingers. He holds his breath as one of those long fingers begins to press into him, trying to melt into the feeling of the breath on the side of his neck all while being aware of the stretch. It was strange to say the least.   
However, he quickly gets used to it when the finger presses up to the second knuckle and curves. It's unlike anything he's ever felt before and he has to stop himself from coming undone right there, burrowing his face into the marksman's shoulder with a keening whine of approval as the ministrations continue, working him open enough for the second finger. From there, it gets better, something he didn't think possible, and he begins to question just how much further his body could take when he already felt so aroused. He gasps, trying to think of something, anything to keep himself sane long enough to get to the main event and begins reciting baseball stats in his head, unaware his body was shaking with the pleasure until he's brought back out by Sniper's voice.  
"So perfect, look at you, all ready for me." He coos, right into Scout's ear where he can hear the reverb in the centre of himself, that husky voice doing nothing but increase the pressure in his gut.  
"Please." He begs, mewling at the loss when Sniper removes his fingers and wipes them on the bedsheets, nodding.   
"Alright, love, stay still for me."   
The change in tone was a strange but welcome one, and as Sniper begins to push in, Scout clings to him, wrapping his arms around the bushman's back and his legs around his hips, bringing him as close as he can. When settled, Sniper presses his lips to the column of the man's throat. "How's that?"   
Scout lets out a gasping sob at the feeling of fullness, overwhelmed with pleasure and already beginning to try and rock his hips where he could. Sniper laughs breathily, "I assume good." He starts off slow, grinding his hips to give the man time to adjust, but soon enough he's picking up speed, bottoming out in short, shallow thrusts just to push back in deep and hard. It's no surprise to find that Scout is loud, and Sniper kisses him to shut him up. With his free hand, he reaches for the abandoned cock between their slick stomachs and begins to jerk it in time with his thrusts, almost doubling the tight pulsing around his own. Scout throws his head back, gasping in long breaths to try and keep himself from moaning, but instead settles for pushing his face back into the crook of the Australian's shoulder. His nails left red trails down his lover's back, further marking the skin. He was close. He wasn't coherent enough, however, to voice that thought, and instead settled for repeating every swear word he knew, punctuated with calls of Sniper's name. 

Scout came with a jerk of his hips, biting down hard into the flesh between Sniper's neck and shoulder to keep himself from screaming out in bliss, the tensing of his body milking every last drop out of his lover until he collapsed on top, spent and sweating with a groan. Sniper pulls out slow, huffing as he rolled onto his side next to Scout, bringing his mouth to the man's chest and sucking a mark there.  
"Hey, no fair." The Boston man whines once he regained his voice.  
"Its payback. Figure you got me a lot worse than I got you, and that you needed something to remind you just in case." Scout laughs between his breaths.  
"As if I'd forget this." The room goes quiet besides their mutual breathing, residual pleasure still coursing through both of them. "Are… Do you want to stay? Here, tonight, I mean." His voice is soft, almost vulnerable, and Sniper rolls over on his side to face the other man.   
"'Course I do. C'mon, budge up a bit." He replies, helping the man move until they're close, he wraps his arms around the slender waist and hums, closing his eyes. He could get used to this.


End file.
